All the Dark Things
by Teobi
Summary: Disturbed by the day's events, Scott is unable to sleep. Tag-on for Power Play.


"The witching hour, somebody had once whispered to her, was a special moment in the middle of the night when every child and every grown-up was in a deep deep sleep, and all the dark things came out from hiding and had the world all to themselves." - _Roald Dahl, The Big Friendly Giant_

But even though the night was cool and pleasant, deep, deep sleep was impossible.

Scott stared at the ceiling, dark things coming at him from all directions. One dominated- The Hood's frightening ability to fool a man with a myriad of disguises.

He rubbed his hands over his face, feeling faint stubble. 'Captain Foster' had seemed completely genuine. There had been no reason to distrust her- dammit, she'd _helped_ him. They'd fought the Mechanic _together,_ so much so that he'd briefly entertained the notion of inviting her to give up the GDF and join International Rescue. Tough, courageous, bold and unafraid, she was everything he admired in a person.

Even so, he should have known. He wracked his brains trying to think of anything she'd said or done to give the game away, but he couldn't think of one thing that might have alerted him at the time.

Of course he could think of a million things _now_. Her fighting spirit that reminded him so much of Tanusha 'Kayo' Kyrano - the Hood's niece. Whatever fierce rage ran through his blood, a portion of it ran through hers too. After all these years, she was still a mystery. What other of his talents did she own?

The fact that 'Foster' seemed to know exactly what she was doing, almost as if she'd met the Mechanic before and could anticipate his every move. Because she _had_ met the Mechanic before. No one else had a shield as effective against that evil menace as she did. 'She' knew exactly how to keep him at bay. 'She' had had Scott Tracy completely fooled.

Scott did not want to admit to feeling defeated, but in the heat of battle you don't have time for anything but your own survival and the lives of the people in your hands. Inevitably all those suppressed thoughts and feelings came dancing out at 3am like skeletons round a campfire when the fight was over and you were licking your wounds. Scott soon found himself questioning his abilities as a Field Commander. Caught inside the turbine room with the Mechanic and the Hood, he'd been unable to help Virgil, Alan or Gordon. But who else could have rescued those workers? He couldn't be in several different places at once. Did that make him a bad leader?

His temples began to throb with the intensity of the tornado in his mind. Why was he even the leader anyway? Was it _just_ because he was the eldest? Did all of this responsibility rest on his shoulders because fate had chosen him to be the first? Like no one else was better suited for the job? Well, he never _asked_ to be first! Why couldn't he have been second or third or even fourth? Fourth was a good way down the line. Gordon was laid back and easy going and...

\- but that wasn't exactly true either. If any of them were put in danger on a regular basis it was Gordon, out on his own in a tiny pod, or deep in the shark infested depths of the sea. They sent their fourth sibling on more dangerous missions than he deserved, but he took them all in his stride, never once complaining.

No- Scott didn't want to be anything but First. He wouldn't want to put someone in _his_ position, handling all that decision making. Besides, he was an adrenalin junkie. Always had been, always would be. He had his father to thank for that.

"Thanks mom, thanks dad," he muttered, but it came out a tad more bitterly than he'd intended. "You know I'm grateful for everything you did for me," he backtracked, "it's just that every day is like living on a knife edge, you know? Split second decisions and outside forces I can't control."

He listened to the tree frogs chirping and tried to hear his mother's voice in the whisper of drapes against the Pacific breeze. He wanted her reassurance so desperately that unexpected tears pinged into his eyes. He scrubbed them furiously away. He was _not_ going to start blubbing on top of everything else. "Sorry mom," he grunted. "I almost let the side down."

Although he listened intently, his mother's voice did not materialise. Sighing, he tried to make himself comfortable and forget about his troubles. The Hood, the Mechanic, deception and mockery, memories of his parents that he needed _so much_ to be with him right now, the terrible events of this last mission, Project Sentinel (whatever it was, it sounded _bad_ ), the safety of his brothers and Kayo, life, the universe and everything.

As more and more time passed in restless fidgeting, he knew there was no way he was going to sleep tonight. He thumped the mattress, viciously. It was all _just about enough_ for him right now.

Scott Tracy rolled over and hit Comms. ALL the Comms.

"Who else is awake?" he demanded, without even a 'how do you do'.

The response was immediate, almost as though they'd been waiting for him.

"I am," said Virgil, his voice low and rumbling.

"So am I," said Gordon, sounding as though he had a face full of pillow.

"Sleepless On Tracy Island is Go," said Kayo, her voice a tired monotone.

"I am _now_ ," said John, the ghost of a smile in his voice.

"I can't sleep," said Alan, miserably. "Every time I close my eyes I see a wall of water heading towards me."

Scott's throat tightened at the thought of his baby brother having nightmares while he was busy feeling sorry for himself, trying to communicate with his mother like some kind of stupid psychic medium. He knew Mom would have been at Alan's bedside all night after a day like the one they'd just had. "That does it," he said, throwing the bedsheets aside and getting out of bed. "Anyone else want hot chocolate?"

The sound of running feet came crashing down the hallway accompanied by whoops and cries of _hot chocolaaaaate!_ and by the time he stepped out into the hall they had already thundered past like a herd of wildebeest. Scott laughed softly to himself. Maybe _that_ was mom's way of communicating.

Kayo appeared at his side as stealthily as the shadows her 'bird was named after. He jumped slightly, then grinned to hide the resulting embarrassment.

"Hey, Kayo. Aren't you worried they won't leave any for you?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Her uncanny eyes shimmered like pool water.

Scott shrugged. "Sleep just wasn't happening."

Kayo linked her arm through Scott's and they walked sedately towards the cacophonous sounds of Alan and Gordon fighting over food while Virgil warned them that Grandma would come in and bake cookies if they woke her up. "It was a rough day," she said. "For all of us. But you know what? We'll get through it. Like we always do." She smiled at him, shining a ray of light into his soul. He never stopped marvelling at her ability to talk sense into his troubled mind.

"Thanks, Kayo," he said simply. Her answering nod was all the affirmation he needed.

They entered the kitchen to find Alan with his face covered in flour and Gordon on all fours mopping up a large puddle of chocolate milk. Virgil stood over him with arms folded. Kayo let go of Scott's arm and immediately ran into the fray.

"Oh my God, it's four o'clock in the morning and you two are at it already!"

Alan shook flour out of his hair. "Hey, blame Scott, he's the one who told us to get up!"

"And if Scott said jump off a cliff, would you do it?"

"Sure!" said Alan, and a wave of disbelieving laughter rang out through the villa.

There was no way anyone could remain unhappy once the Terrible Two got going. Alan threw marshmallows at Kayo which resulted in the girl putting him in a headlock, redecorating his hair with flour tipped straight from the bag. Grandma's gruff, sleepy voice drifted across from her room, threatening them all with pancakes. Moments later, a tousle headed, yawning Brains shuffled up from the Lab in his pyjamas with MAX not far behind. Outside, there was a lightening of the sky that signalled dawn wasn't far away. Soon the dark would be over and another bright, Pacific day would begin.

Resigning himself to the commotion he had indeed started, Scott made a promise to his mom and dad that he wouldn't be so gullible next time. The Hood had used up his one and only chance; no matter how many fancy disguises he wore in future, Jeff and Lucille Tracy's firstborn son would not be fooled again. No sir- he was the Field Commander of International Rescue, the rightful successor to Jeff Tracy for at least as long as their father was missing, and he was going to make damned sure that he was up to scratch. No more pity parties. No more self-doubt. Scott Tracy was back in town.

His self-confidence restored, Scott grabbed the bag of marshmallows and hot footed it to the lounge with a squealing Alan close behind. In the midst of a tackle that was stronger than Scott had anticipated, they both tripped over a footstool. Marshmallows flew everywhere. They hit the walls, bounced off furniture and left sugary white dots all over Virgil's piano.

"Noooo!" cried Virgil, hands flying to his head.

One marshmallow went straight through John's holo, causing the redhead to stare comically at his abdomen as though there was a hole in it. Grandma let out a groan of dismay while everyone else doubled over with laughter. Gordon went so red in the face that Brains had to thump him on the back.

"Scott started it!" yelled Alan, puffing flour everywhere.

"My beautiful piano!" wailed Virgil.

"Man, this is awesome!" spluttered Gordon.

"Please tell me I'm adopted," said John.

"Well I definitely am," replied Kayo.

Scott thanked his parents for the wonderful family and the fantastic opportunities they'd given him. He promised that every day he would be a slightly better man than he had been the day before. He promised to make them proud. To make them _all_ proud. And with that, the last of the dark things was banished into the ether.


End file.
